


Sweet Sleep, My Dark Angel

by BlackRoseMyou



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2058963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackRoseMyou/pseuds/BlackRoseMyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean spends a night out with his Impala, thinking about how things have gone.<br/>Spoilers through mid-season 7.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Sleep, My Dark Angel

Dean sat on the hood of his precious Impala, nursing his third beer of the night. He stared up at the ever-lightening stars and tried to breathe. The cold air cut through his thin tee-shirt and bit at his skin, making it prickle like fire. He desperately tried to quiet his thoughts of Sam and Lucifer and Bobby so as to hear anything else above the din of his panic. 

He had almost slipped up earlier, when he had spoken to Bobby. The old man hadn't seemed to notice, but Dean had. When Bobby had brought up Sam's mental state, Dean had had enough. He had basically told the old man - who had really been more of a father to him than John had ever been - to screw off and let it alone, albeit in a much kinder tone. He didn't say anything else, and Bobby - bless his unruly soul - hadn't really called him out on his unnecessary defensiveness, hadn't asked "what the hell is eatin' at ya, ya idgit," in true Bobby fashion. 

So Dean sat, in the middle of the night, frozen to the bone, sipping alcoholic beverages, and chastised himself. He had been so careful, had tried so hard not to slip up, hadn't said anything to make them suspicious - 

The sound of wingbeats and rushing air interrupted Dean's thoughts. Castiel, dressed as impractically as ever in his trench coat and 3-piece suit, leaned against the Impala's bumper. Dean sighed and set his beer down after carefully wiping the condensation from the bottom ring of the can. He looked over and met impossibly blue eyes, trained fiercely on him. 

"Hello, Dean." 

Dean's lips quirked up a bit at that, the unchanging greeting still somehow making him smile even in his advanced state of distress. He studied Castiel's face for a moment, reassuring himself. This was his Cas. This was not the Leviathan-filled creature that had damn near broken his face against the wall and killed Bobby. This was not the decaying meat suit that had slaughtered the leader of the Westboro Baptist Church (though Dean had to admit, he couldn't blame him for that one) and terrorized the world for weeks, alternately destroying and performing miracles as he saw fit. This was his Castiel. His angel. And he was standing right in front of him. 

Dean had yet to tell the others. He had yet to tell them that the night they got home - after seeing the Leviathan drag Cas into the water and then dissipate, leaving his body to drown at the bottom of the lake - Castiel had walked from the closet where Dean had stored the abused trench coat. He had looked as good as he had in the warehouse where Dean first saw him; trench coat repaired, tie backwards, hair looking like the product of an eight-hour sex marathon quickly followed by a roller coaster. Dean hadn't told them, and he certainly wasn't planning on doing so any time soon. 

Dean was pulled from his thoughts by a hand gently settling on the back of his head. He startled and looked up into bright blue eyes. Castiel's lips had curved upward just a fractional amount; one brow was the slightest bit above the other. Dean recognized it as mirth, at his expense. 

"Dean. What are you thinking about?" Castiel tilted his head slightly to the right, his expression losing some of its mirth and moving steadily towards concerned. 

Dean just smiled and looked away. "Nothing, Cas," he muttered under his breath, but Castiel could tell he was lying. He knew it. He knew that if he looked up into Castiel's eyes, he would see a frown on his face, confusion settling into his brow. Dean cleared his throat and turned his head a bit farther away. He desperately sought to ignore the warm body only inches from his, the intense stare that he could feel prickling the hairs on the back of his neck. 

Dean couldn't help but think about Castiel. He felt guilty. He had taught Castiel about free will, had played a part in Castiel's disobedience towards his family. Everything that Castiel had done, he had done for Dean. So when Castiel decided to try and defeat Raphael, to wage a civil war in heaven, he had needed more power. And where had Dean been while Crowley had been convincing Castiel to steal Purgatory's souls? He had been off, not giving the angel even a second thought. He had forgotten Castiel's innocence, his desperation to reform Heaven and prevent Raphael from destroying everything he worked for. All Castiel wanted was peace. 

And what had he gotten for his trouble? Leviathan. And nobody could tell Dean that Crowley, the slimy little sonuvabitch, hadn't known about those fuckers. Crowley was a demon. He knew about evil. He lived in and worked for hell, for fuck's sakes. And Dean hadn't been there to help Castiel see the light. He hadn't stopped him, he could have, if only he'd paid more attention, and now how could he tell him - Dean was pulled from his reveries by a warm thumb gently caressing his cheek. He looked at Cas and noticed he was so much closer. He had pressed his body as close to Dean's as he could get it. Dean could feel the warm puffs of breath against his face. 

"Why are you crying, Dean? Is something wrong?" Castiel's brows were furrowed now, true concern lining his face. His lips were drawn down in a pout and parted slightly. His blue eyes seemed to shine brighter when he tilted his head, leaning in closer to look at Dean's face. 

Dean frowned and reached a hand to his other cheek, pulling away saline-wet fingertips. Weird. He hadn't realized he had started crying. He sniffed and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly to the count of three. 

"Yeah, Cas. I'm fine. Just fuckin' perfect," he managed to huff out in his typical I'm-totally-okay-now-fuck-off haughty tone. He heard the tinge of sorrow in his voice and cringed a bit, hoping the annoyingly observant angel hadn't noticed. 

He did, of course. Why wouldn't he? He knew everything about Dean. Castiel slid his hand down until it rested at the base of Dean's skull, his other hand taking Dean's and pressing them both to his chest. Dean startled a bit at the sudden warmth on his chilled skin, but relaxed as the combined warmth of their hands seeped through his chest cavity. 

"Dean. I will never leave you," the angel said as if he were dictating the entire doctrine of Edith to a scholar for the first time, "I love you." His words carried so much weight and utter sincerity that Dean believed them, even if only for a moment. He drew a shaky breath and let it out again, feeling warm tears well up in his eyes as he gently placed his other hand over Castiel's. He closed his eyes and spoke in a broken voice, so quiet as to almost be inaudible. 

"I know Cas," he said, tears slipping down his cheeks. "I love you, too." He opened his eyes a slight bit, seeing the rapidly brightening pink of the early morning sky. He drew a breath and smiled sadly. "I miss you. So much." He opened his eyes and looked up. 

He could have sworn that, in that split second before the mirage dissipated in the first shaft of sunlight spilling over the horizon, he had felt lips, gentle and chapped upon his own. He had seen black wings, the colour of oil slicks, each feather veined with pure silver, each feathered structure reaching beyond the end of sight, arcing over Castiel's head. He bit back a sob and leaned back onto the Impala, biting down on his fist and wishing that his hallucinations could be real. After all, if Sam could have a devil on his shoulder, why couldn't Dean have an angel on his?  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
 _I can't go on living this way_  
 _But I can't go back the way I came_  
 _Chained to this fear that I will never find a way to heal my soul_  
 _And I will wander till the end of time_  
 _Half alive without you_  
  
 _My heart is broken_  
 _Sweet sleep, my dark angel_  
 _Deliver us_  
  
- &-  
  
 _Change_  
 _Open your eyes to the light_  
 _I denied it all so long, oh so long_  
 _Say goodbye_  
 _Goodbye..._  
  
 _My Heart is Broken_ by Evanescence

**Author's Note:**

> Written around the time that I was catching up on season 7, so kind of a while ago.


End file.
